


Porcelain Mask

by SquiggidWithShame



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Age Difference, Consensual Underage Sex, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Rough Sex, Shotacon, Spoilers, These are some rough tags huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquiggidWithShame/pseuds/SquiggidWithShame
Summary: The thought of Naoki not knowing he’s speaking with the person responsible for his sister’s death makes Adachi so giddy with amusement that he almost breaks into giggles, but he does his best to turn it into an awkward laugh.“Must be hard, what you’re going through,” Adachi says instead.
Relationships: Adachi Tohru/Konishi Naoki
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Porcelain Mask

**Author's Note:**

> This is lightly inspired by [this comic](https://twitter.com/chqkqm/status/1277979383634915329?s=20) simply because I never thought about these two characters interacting with each other. But when I did... I couldn't stop myself.
> 
> Thanks to [@Smashing_Successor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smashing_Successor/) for being the best/worst enabler friend and for somehow changing my mind about this Adachi guy.
> 
> Sorry if I get some details wrong; it's been five years since I played this game.

It’s just another boring day in Inaba. Investigating a missing cat case, getting lectured by Dojima-san, throwing an inkling of a hint to the brat pack to send them off in the wrong direction. With the Midnight Channel, this small town has gotten a little more interesting, but it’s still the kind of place where the highlight of Adachi’s day is right here sitting at Chinese Diner Aiya and eating a bowl of hot ramen.

There is something different about today, though. There’s a thin boy with platinum blonde hair and half-lidded eyes seated a few seats away at the bar. It’s clear that he finished his meal a while ago, and he’s just been sitting here, taking occasional sips of his water and then placing his head back in his hand to mask a small frown.

Where has Adachi seen this kid before again? That hair color, that fair skin… ah, that’s right. Saki Konishi’s brother. Naoki, was it? How long has it been since Adachi tossed Saki into the TV? Two weeks, maybe? To be honest, he hasn’t really been keeping track.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while now.”

Adachi blinks, and suddenly those half-lidded eyes are on him.

“What, are you gonna tell me what a poor kid I am, like everyone else has been saying?” Naoki drawls with the smallest of scowls.

The kid’s got some attitude, that’s for sure. But it’s understandable, considering what happened to his sister. Considering what Adachi did to his sister.

The thought of Naoki not knowing he’s speaking with the person responsible for his sister’s death makes Adachi so giddy with amusement that he almost breaks into giggles, but he does his best to turn it into an awkward laugh.

“Must be hard, what you’re going through,” Adachi says instead. At this point, he’s mastered the art of pretending to be a somewhat respectable adult.

“I’m not some soft kid. I can take care of myself,” Naoki grumbles.

“Yeah, sure, buddy.”

“I can.” Naoki dips his head in and lowers his voice. “I can prove it.”

The words are vague enough, but there’s no mistaking the purr of his voice, the suggestive gaze peering up at him through thick lashes.

Well, this is a surprise. Not unwelcome, but not something Adachi’s quite used to. It’s been a while since someone’s come onto him, and he wasn’t expecting a move from a high school kid—much less the brother of one of his victims. Adachi’s not really one for men, usually, but the boy looks soft enough, pretty enough.

Weak enough.

“How old are you?” Adachi asks.

“Old enough,” is the answer he gets.

Hah. “I don’t think you are.”

“Old enough to make you feel good.”

Hmm. This attention is kinda nice, isn’t it? With Adachi’s track record of rejection from women, hearing this blatant forwardness from this overconfident kid gets Adachi almost as excited as when he’s about to throw someone into a TV.

Almost.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, kid,” Adachi says, lifting his bowl of ramen to drink the soup.

He barely registers the sound of Naoki getting up. He only feels a brush against his body as Naoki stands next to him, leaning against the bar, looking down at him with those soft, challenging eyes.

“I think I do,” Naoki murmurs.

Maybe it’s the burn of the ramen as it slides down his throat. Maybe it’s that this awful town is so goddamn boring all the time, and this is just another small thrill Adachi needs to get by. Or maybe it’s the fact that this high school kid is now taller than him, looking down at him, like he’s controlling the show.

The only person controlling the show is Adachi, whether people know it or not. And lately, he’s been itching for some long-awaited recognition, damn it.

Adachi almost handcuffs the boy to his wrist, but instead he opps to just lead him out more discreetly. He doesn’t need anyone being suspicious of him. He doesn’t need people making assumptions as he pushes Naoki into his car, drives them to his apartment, and shoves him against a wall. The kid’s clearly inexperienced, all sloppy tongue and uncoordinated hands, but there’s something about that that’s so enticing. Adachi has all the power here, all the experience, the strength, the control.

Finally, for once, he has the control.

Maybe he gets lost in it, this taste of power, and his mask slips for a second as Naoki is underneath him, naked and squirming with his legs spread out—so vulnerable—because, between gasps and pants from the fingers stretching him apart, a realization passes across Naoki’s face.

“You’re not who people think you are, are you?” Naoki whimpers. “You’re not the soft cop you pretend to be.”

Adachi stares at him. Can he trust this boy? Can he be himself for a little bit?

It occurs to him—admittedly a bit belatedly, for a detective—why Naoki’s here in the first place. The poor kid probably wants to feel something, anything, to distract himself from his sister’s death. Despite all his tough words, he’s just as lonely as Adachi is.

They can be their true selves together, just for this moment.

“Fine. I’ll tell you the truth.” Adachi leans down, letting his voice sink into a darker tone. “I want to tear you apart. I want to see the look on your face when I go too hard and hurt you. I want to leave bruises on your body that you won’t be able to explain because you’re too ashamed.”

He’s half expecting the kid to back out now, but instead Naoki just licks his lips and nods.

“Then do it.”

It sounds annoyingly like a command, and Adachi’s way too eager to put this kid in his place. He thrusts into him a bit too rough, he tugs Naoki’s hair a bit too tight, he bites down on his neck a bit too hard when he comes and the kid cries out and splurts hot liquid between their bodies.

When Adachi leans back and sees Naoki with his disheveled hair, his lost look, his bruised lips, Adachi can’t stop himself from touching the boy’s porcelain face to see if it shatters underneath his fingertips.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Adachi whispers.

Naoki purses his lips and turns his head away. “I’m not as good as people think I am.”

For a second—just a split second—it feels like Adachi’s looking at himself, or maybe who he used to be when he still had something resembling innocence in his heart.

“Nobody’s ever who they seem to be,” Adachi says, more to himself than anyone else.

Naoki blinks and looks at him. All it takes is that one look, one look where it seems like someone’s catching onto him, for Adachi to slide his mask back on again.

“You OK?” Adachi asks, softening his tone and putting on a kinder face.

With the caring words, the thoughtful look on Naoki’s face disappears, quickly replaced with a frown.

“Whatever.”

“Let me drive you home.”

“Just drive me back to the restaurant. I’ll walk back from there.”

The drive back is silent. Naoki has his head in his hand again, leaning against the window. The streetlights that pass by wash his face out, making him look even paler than he is.

Both their masks are back on, but neither of them acknowledge it. Neither of them acknowledge the early whispers of a connection between them that could bloom into something more, something secret that they could share.

When Adachi parks at the now-closed restaurant, he brushes his fingers on the bruise he left on Naoki’s neck, admiring his work one last time.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Naoki says.

Adachi smiles at the misunderstanding. “See? You’re a good kid at heart.”

“And you?”

Him? Hmm.

Maybe he was good, at some point, a long time ago. But years of working hard for nothing, years of not being appreciated, years of being squashed under the rug while everyone around him got everything they wanted... 

“Growing up sucks, kid,” Adachi says with a wry smile.

Naoki lowers his eyes. “At least you got to grow up.”

Without a goodbye kiss or even another look at Adachi, Naoki leaves.

The responsible thing to do, probably, would be to watch the young man leave from his rear-view mirror, but Adachi just drives off instead.

After all, making sure the boy got home safe would mean that Adachi cares about him, and he can’t have that. Caring about Naoki Konishi would mean he’d have to care about Saki Konishi, and that’d ruin the fun of this whole game.

With nobody around him for once, Adachi finally lets out that fit of giggles that he’d been holding back all day.


End file.
